


Like Tears In Rain

by xanderbot13



Category: Blade Runner (Movies), NieR: Automata (Video Game)
Genre: Action, Alternate Universe - Cyberpunk, Angst, Blade Runner AU, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Romance, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-22
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2020-10-25 21:28:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 20,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20731037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xanderbot13/pseuds/xanderbot13
Summary: Having escaped from the horrors of the off-world pleasure bot company he’d been illlegaly sold to, 9S finds himself back on Earth and running from the law and YoRHa Corp. - the Corporation he had once belonged to. With nowhere to go, he accidentally stumbles upon friendly strangers who help him keep his identity safe. Until one day everything changes, when a familiar face he’d only seen in dreams and false memories appears in the flesh.(No prior knowledge of Blade Runner needed. Basically they’re still angsty androids but in a cyberpunk world)





	1. Pascal’s Cafe

Everything falls apart in slow motion, but the final kill is instant. As his finger pulls the trigger, the bullet shoots through the air into the other replicant's chest in the blink of an eye. His heavy body hits the floor with a loud thud as his blood starts spilling from his wound. 9S stares wide-eyed; his ears ring from the deafening sound of the gun shot. He pants and slowly lowers his gun. He can't believe what he’d just done. He retired a replicant. No, murdered. Murdered a replicant. A YoRHa replicant, just like him.

His gaze freezes on the body of the dead Blade Runner on the other side of the room for what feels like hours before he manages to snap out of it. He looks around the dingy motel room. The walls, the floor, the furniture. It’s all splattered in red. Three other bodies litter the place. His friends with whom he had escaped from Lujuria Co. The pungent smell of blood and oil burns his nostrils. His stomach turns and he feels the bitter, vile taste of his own bile trying to crawl up his throat. He swallows and clenches his jaw, looking down at the gun in his shaking hand.

If he hadn't killed him, the Blade Runner would've killed him instead, just like he killed the others. He had survived, but at what cost? His only friends were dead and he’s now officially an outlaw - a Blade Runner target. With his hacking abilities gone, and especially his current illegal status, YoRHa Corp. would never take him back. No. They’re ruthless when it comes to defective products. They wouldn’t care _ what _ had happened to him, only what he had _ done _in the eyes of the law. He has to run. Now.

As soon as he exits the rundown motel, harsh city lights and the clamorous noise from the bars, clubs, shops, and restaurants welcome him into the overcrowded streets. The smell is a strange, nauseating mixture of everything, but at least it’s not as bad as the smell of blood. Still, the whole scene is an act of violence in itself. The obnoxious noise booming from every corner and the rowdy crowds of people overload his senses, adding to his building anxiety. He walks and walks for what feels like miles in that sea of chaos and blinding lights, checking his surroundings at all times in case he’s being followed. 

When he finally reaches a quieter area, he slows down to a stop and sits down on the stairs of an old looking building. There’s loud music coming from the inside, but he’s too tired to be bothered by it by now. His muscles are sore. His brain is all static. He leans his head against the rails and looks up at the sky.

Way past the glowing skyscrapers, the blinding lights of the large, looming billboard ads, higher than the highest spinner zooming by, and beyond all the smog of the city, a tiny glimpse of The Moon beams at him before drowning back into the void. His eyes gleam for a second. He's never been to The Moon, but he daydreams about it. It must be so peaceful to live up there, away from all the noise and lights and people. 

Maybe someday, when he gathers enough money...he would go hide out there. Find a nice little place to live in...and be happy. Have a tiny farm...admire the view from up there...and be happy...just him and...and...

and...

* * *

There she is. Standing by the lockers in her uniform, wearing his old black jacket. She gives him a soft smile as he walks towards her and greets her with a quick, gentle kiss. There's a box of chocolates in his hand. They're for her. She takes it and grins while she opens it. The smell is sweet. Like her. She takes one and pops it in his mouth without a warning. His eyes widen for a split second before laughing and doing the same to her. She hides her face as she laughs. She's embarrassed by it, but for him, it's the most beautiful sound he's ever heard.

It's only been six months, but he knows she's the one. She always has been.

He smiles and pulls her hand away from her face. She smirks and pulls him in for a quick kiss. Her lips taste like chocolate. His whole face reddens. She grins softy down at him, beckoning for more. He smiles and gladly indulges her, slightly raising himself on his tiptoes. Reaching up, he runs his fingers through her smooth, silver locks as she pulls him closer. 

Here in this white, boring building, in the early hours of the day before class starts, basking in the rays of light from the morning sun seeping through the window in front of them, here in each other’s warm embrace, they are safe. For now. 

* * *

"HEY! Hey kid, you can't do that here!" A harsh slap to his face startles him awake.

9S’ eyes shoot open as his pulse spikes. Where…? "Huh?"

"You can't sleep here, either go into the club or get the fuck out. If you're too drunk, call a cab or something, but loitering around isn't allowed here, you got that?"

9S blinks and stares up at the tall, imposing man scowling down at him. "Y...yeah…"

"Alright then, get your ass moving," the guy says as he pulls him up by the arm in one swift move.

9S grunts and stumbles slightly before recovering his balance and walking away as fast as he can. Fuck, what time is it even? How long has he been there? The streets are slightly quieter, so it’s probably a few hours before daytime. He lets out a tired, heavy sigh. He wants nothing more than to just stop right where he is and shut down. But the guy from back there is still eyeing him, so he picks up his pace and turns the corner so he'd finally be out of sight. 

A nauseating feeling overtakes him as the motel room scene comes flooding back to his mind, so he breaks into a run, as if he can simply outrun the crimson splattered memory. There are few people around now, so it doesn’t matter who’s looking. He just needs to get away. So he runs. 

His lungs are burning and his sight blurs from exhaustion, but he pushes through it and keeps running for as long as his body can handle. Tiny raindrops sprinkle his face as it starts drizzling. He keeps running. The raindrops start pelting down on him as the light drizzle turns into a heavy downpour. He keeps running. His legs feel like lead. But he keeps running, running, running.

After a few blocks, he finally slows down when his legs refuse to move any faster. He pants heavily as he drags himself forward. He’s soaking wet from head to toe. His body’s so numb that he can barely feel the cold anymore. 

There is nowhere to go. No one to go to. 

Nobody. Nobody. Nobody. Nobody. 

He simply stands there for a moment, looking down at the pavement. 

His tears get lost in the rain.

If only she wasn't just a false memory...  


* * *

The poignant smell of puke and rancid food and other putrid things he doesn’t wanna think about burns his nostrils. He scrunches up his nose and stops breathing until his lack of oxygen alarm starts beeping in his brain. He lets it beep for a little longer before he gasps for air again and regrets it immediately. The stench is nauseating, but he still refuses to move or even open his eyes. In fact, he shuts them even tighter and hugs his legs closer to himself. This is where he belongs now and nothing could ever move him away from here. 

A new smell reaches his nose. Coffee?

Footsteps and a low, grumbling voice approaches his resting place. He hides his face with his sleeve and nestles himself deeper into the bed of garbage underneath him as a pathetic attempt to go unnoticed. However, his rustling only makes him more noticeable. 

The footsteps come to a stop right before him. 

"What in the…?" Whoever it was drops the bags of trash they were carrying and kneels down. "Hey...hello there, what are you doing here?" They shake his shoulder gently.

9S freezes for a second, mentally preparing to run.

"Shh, it's okay, I'm not gonna hurt you," The voice says calmly. It’s mellow and kind.

9S uncovers his face slightly, just enough to take a peek at the person before him. He can’t exactly tell what he looks like because of the backlight shadowing his figure, but he seems to be a tan, middle aged man, wearing an apron and a soft smile on his face. He has a friendly demeanor. 9S eyes him cautiously.

"You seem like you've had a rough time. Are you lost?" He asks.

9S hesitates. "Something like that," he mutters after a few seconds. 

"Well, uh...I have a phone you could use if you want. And if you're hungry you can grab a bite at my cafe. I've got really good things. Sandwiches, salads, pies, muffins, cake, cookies, whatever you want...it's on me," the man smiles sympathetically.

9S studies his expression, trying to analyze his behavior and words. Is this a trap? What does he want from him? Does he already know he’s a replicant? Is he going to turn him in to the authorities to either die a tragic, boring death at the hands of a B unit or be reset? Just how many cookies could he stuff his face with? What kind of cake did he have anyway? _ Fucking concentrate, 9S, _he scolds himself in his head. 

"Well?" The old man raises an eyebrow.

Well...just _ one _pastry couldn't hurt. "Okay," he mutters. 

The old man extends his hand for him to take and helps him stand up. 9S takes note of the man’s tall build and green eyes as he guides him through the back door of his cafe. The ambient is warm and welcoming. There’s soft jazz music playing in the background. The man invites him to sit down at the table nearest to the counter. He hesitantly obliges.

“So, young man. What would you like?” The man asks as he goes behind the counter.

“Uh…” 9S turns to look at the variety of pastries inside the glass display case in front of him. He points to the third tray. “That one,” he mutters. “Please.”

The man turns to look. “Oh, lemon pie, good choice,” he smiles as he slides open the back of the display and reaches for one of the slices. “Anything to drink? Coffee? Juice? Milk?”

His eyes light up. “Hot milk please.”

“Alright, hot milk coming right up,” he places the slice of lemon pie on a small plate and sets it on the counter, then turns around and quickly prepares the hot milk. “Sugar or honey?” 

“Honey, please.”

The man nods. Once he’s done preparing the milk, he takes the cup and the plate along with a fork and napkin and walks back to 9S. He gently sets both in front of him and smiles. “Enjoy.”

9S looks down at the pie and milk in front of him like they’re a banquet. “Thank you,” he wastes no time as he grabs the fork and starts gobbling down his pie like a starved child, even though he had no need of food for sustenance. Cravings _ are _ a big thing thing for replicants, after all. 

The old man simply sits down on the opposite side of the table and watches him contentedly. “So, what’s your name, young man?”

9S stops mid-chewing and swallows before looking up. “I’m Ni-uh..ate. Nate!” he lies.

“Nate, what a nice name. My name’s Pascal, but you may call me Uncle Pascal if you’d like,” he says with smiling eyes.

9S gives him a judging look. “Uh, sure,” he says through a mouthful.

“So, Nate. Mind if I ask what brings you around here?”

9S swallows and takes a gulp out of his milk. “Er...i-it’s a long story…” he looks down into his cup. “I’d rather not talk about it right now.”

Pascal furrows his brows in concern. “That’s understandable. I imagine you’ve been through some hardship, huh?”

9S nods. “I-it’s not a huge deal though. I can manage on my own...I think.”

“On your own?” Pascal raises his brow. “What do you mean?”

“Uh...it’s just that...I-uh…” 9S tries to come up with a story on the spot. “I ran away from home be-because of uh...my dad? He’s...very abusive. A-and he’s very violent and threatened to kill me because he thought that I sneaked out of home to hang out with friends and do bad things, b-but I didn’t! He’s just lost his mind completely. And I don’t even have any friends so...heh...I-I’m sorry, I’ve probably said too much,” he looks off to the side and sighs, hoping that was a good enough story. His hand shakes as he grabs his fork and gets another bite from his pie. 

“Oh, you poor thing!” Pascal exclaims horrified. “So you really are on your own now? Don’t you have any other family members who could help you? Another parent perhaps?”

“No, I’ve never had another parent,” 9S sighs. 

“Any aunts or uncles? Grandparents?”

“Nope,” he shakes his head.

Pascal looks at him with sorrow. “Oh my, I’m so sorry to hear that, dear.”

“Heh, it’s no big deal,” 9S shrugs. “I’m much better now without him anyway.”

“Well, yes, that’s one way to look at it,” Pascals thinks for a moment. “However, where will you go?”

9S takes another sip of milk and puts down the cup. “Oh, uh...to be honest, I haven’t really thought of that yet. I didn’t really have a concrete plan or anything, I just really needed to get away,” he scratches the back of his neck nervously. Pascal has a point. Where _ would _ he go?

There is a short silence while 9S finishes up his dessert and Pascal looks at him, deep in thought. 

“I have an idea,” Pascal speaks up after a moment. “I could let you stay with me for a while and let you take the guest room - for as long as you need. But in exchange you’d help me out here at the cafe. And I’d pay you a starting wage of course, but you won’t have to worry about rent or food,” he smiles. “So what do you say?”

“W-what?” 9S’ eyes widen. “For real?”

“Of course! No young boy like you should go without a home. I may not be able to do much for you, but I can at least help you with these basic needs,” he says.

“Uh...thank you, but. Don’t you think it’s a bit much? I mean, we barely met a few minutes ago, and I’d hate to bother you…” 9S lowers his head. 

“Nonsense. You’d be of great help, Nate. My business may be small, but it is a lot of work for just one old man,” he chuckles. “I don’t have the same energy as when I was your age.”

9S thinks for a second. “Well...if it’s not too much trouble, and I’d be of use somehow…” 

Pascal looks at him expectantly with a raised brow. 

“Okay, I accept your offer,” 9S says. It would only be a temporary thing and besides, he’s in desperate need of a place to stay, plus having a regular job is the perfect way of blending into human society. 

“Alright! I’m so glad,” Pascal claps his hands and smiles. “I’ll teach you everything you need. You can start out with the easy tasks, like taking orders and cleaning up tables and such, and then I’ll show you how to make the drinks. Does that sound good?”

“Sure,” 9S nods. 

“I don’t open the place until eight though, so in the meantime," he slowly stands up, “why don’t we go upstairs to my apartment so you can freshen up? You can take a bath and I’ll lend you some clothes for now. We can go shopping after closing time and get you some new, decent clothes,” he says as he takes the empty plate and cup and goes place them in the sink.

9S’ eyes light up at the mention of a bath. “Yeah, sounds good,” he says as he stands up and follows Pascal to the back of the cafe and up the spiral staircase into his apartment. 

9S looks around the place curiously. The white and lime green walls are decorated with various landscape paintings. In the living room there are two wide brown couches, a small coffee table with a few books on top, and an antique-looking flatscreen on the opposite wall. The air is cold, but something about the small place smells like home. 

Pascal leads him past the living room, down the hall, and into the small guest room on the left, parallel to his own room.

"Here, this'll be your room," he says as he opens the door. "Welcome home, Nate," he smiles. 

"Heh, thanks," 9S grins softly as he walks in. 

"I'll be right back, I'll just get some clothes and a towel for you," Pascal says as he walks out.

9S looks around at his new room and smiles. A queen sized bed, a shelf full of books, and a private bathroom just for him? He hopes he isn't just dreaming, because this is just too good.

Pascals arrives shortly after with a clean towel and a simple, light blue button down shirt, beige pants, socks, and sneakers. 9S takes a look at them and is surprised they only seem to be about a size up. These can’t possibly be this old man’s, can they? 

“Whose clothes are these?” 9S looks at him with a raised brow.

“Oh, they were my son’s,” Pascal replies with a hint of sadness in his voice. “I hope they’re alright?”

“No, yeah! They’re fine, thank you so much,” 9S decides to not press him on the matter. He has a feeling it might be a touchy subject.

“It’s no problem,” Pascal smiles, “well, I’ll leave you to your bath. If there’s anything else you need, I’ll be downstairs.”

“Alright. Thank you, sir,” 9S nods.

Pascal chuckles. “No need to be so formal, dear. Just call me Pascal, or Uncle Pascal if it makes you feel more comfortable!”

9S represses a laugh. “Okay. Pascal it is.”

Pascal grins and pats his head tenderly. “Alright. Have a nice time!” He says before walking out the door.

9S takes the towel and clothes and walks into the bathroom. Once he’s filled the tub, he slowly settles in and sighs contentedly, leaning his head back and stretching out.

He can't remember the last time he took a real bath. Back at Lujuria, the best he could hope for was a rough routine cleanup performed by a lousy automated machine. He's glad he found this place.

Maybe he can trust this old man. He seems very kind. Perhaps overly generous and optimistic, but he can't exactly call that a bad thing. He's still a little wary, but he feels like he'll be fine here for now. 9S smiles softly. 

Yeah...this is nice. He could get used to this.


	2. Eddy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An old friend appears and helps 9S with his malfunctions. He’s friendly and a bit flirty, but can he trust him?

** _Hawk 55_ **

_ {Meet me at Pascal’s Cafe 6:30pm sharp) _

_ {Bring four 45FmL and seven 6TGiF)  _

_ {Forget about the 23XD. The client refused) _

_ {Don’t be late) _

** _You_ **

_ (Sure thing} _

_ _

_ last seen at 6:13pm _

He takes one last look at the brief conversation before swiping left and closing the tab on the small display, then pulls down his mouth mask so it hangs around his neck. As he walks into the cafe, he smiles at the owner on the other side of the counter.

“Hi, Pascal,” he greets him.

“Oh, hello kiddo,” Pascal smiles. “How have you been?”

“Been okay. A bit busy with schoolwork, y’know how it is,” he lies. “How about you?”

“I’ve been doing wonderful, thank you for asking. I have someone new helping me out here, so things have been going great!” He beams. “So, what will you have today?”

* * *

It’s such a drag…

9S yawns as he prepares a cappuccino. Probably the one thousandth cappuccino of the day. Then he takes it over to the waiting customer over at the right side of the counter and hands it to her with a forced smile. Luckily for him, there’s no line. It’s been a busy day, so he’s grateful there aren’t a lot of customers now. It’s almost closing time, only about an hour to go, but he feels exhausted. 

The amount of work is alright, and he doesn’t want to complain, but more and more often, he’ll start malfunctioning one way or another. Sometimes his hands or left leg will get stuck momentarily. Other times his vision will slowly turn into static for a few seconds and then go back to normal. There are a few instances when he twitches in an odd manner, just like an old machine would. He worries all these mishaps might give him away as a replicant.

“Nate, could you go clean up tables 3 and 7 please?” Pascal asks as he places a few dishes and cups in the washer. 

“Sure thing,” he sighs as he goes fetch the cleaning supplies.

As he picks up the dirty cups and saucers and cleans up the table, he hears a customer walk in and greet Pascal. He’s too busy and tired to register their conversation, so he pays no mind to it, but something at the back of his mind tells him he’s heard that mellow voice somewhere. 

Once he’s done cleaning up, he picks up the tray with all the dirty cups and dishes and takes them to the dishwasher. When he’s done with that, he turns around just in time to see Pascal handing the customer his drink. Their eyes meet. He gasps in realization. Those deep aqua green eyes; he’d know them anywhere. His hair is different. It used to be shorter and navy blue. Now it’s a soft caramel brown, and longer than it used to, with bangs covering part of his face. But it’s the same face, same voice. He could be mistaken, but he sees in his eyes that he recognizes him too. 

“801S?” He whispers. 

The other scanner’s eyes widen and he slowly starts to back away.

“Thank you for the coffee, Pascal, it’s been nice to see you but I really have to go I’m very busy tonight goodbye!” He gives him a halfhearted smile and turns on his heal to leave.

“Alright, goodbye!” Pascal waves.

As he exists the cafe, he breaks into a run, spilling coffee all over his shirtsleeve. He winces at the burn and accidentally drops the cup.

“Wait!” Without a second thought, 9S rounds the counter and quickly makes his way out of the cafe, not paying attention to a very confused Pascal calling for him to get back. 

As he runs, 801S sends a command to his little, cube-shaped companion floating beside him. “Pod, message Hawk 55: th-this is Echelon-801, our meetup has been compromised, there’s a code B. I-i’m not entirely sure, but he might be one. He’s following me. Anyway, please reschedule. I’ll get back to you soon!” 

“Message sent,” it announces in a child-like voice through its speaker. 

“Cool, thanks,” he mutters as he picks up his pace. 

9S struggles to catch up to him as his vision slowly starts to turn into static. He loses sight of him as he rounds the corner into an alley, so he pushes himself on. When he reaches the corner, a hand reaches for his neck and pulls him into the alley and forcefully pins him against the wall. His head hits the brick wall and his vision goes full static. He gasps and struggles, but the hand grips his neck harder. Something cold and metallic is pressed against his temple. 

“Move, and I’ll pull the trigger,” the voice mutters into his ear.

9S stops moving immediately. “801S, it’s me...”

“How did you know?! How did you find out about me? Who sent you?” He inquires.

“No one, I’m not after you,” he gasps, “please, let go.”

“Not until I find out how you knew where to find me.”

“I wasn’t,” he grunts, “wasn’t looking for you.”

“Oh yeah? Then why did you follow me? Why did you run after me?” He presses him tighter against the wall.

9S winces. “I was shocked,” he gasps, “to see you. Just wanted...to talk to you, that’s all,” he grunts. “Please...you have to believe me.”

“Bullshit,” 801S scoffs and starts the process of hacking into him.

9S realizes in horror what’s about to happen as he starts to feel that familiarly unwelcome invasion and he struggles with all his remaining strength to fight him and keep him from entering, but to no avail. His firewall defense is weak from so much abuse and within a second he’s already in. 

Whatever 801S is expecting to find isn’t there at all. Instead, he finds a complete mess of corrupted or malfunctioning systems and outdated software. Some basic functions are missing. There’s malware scurrying and slithering around in every corner, just waiting for him to let his guard down and pounce. He swallows his fear and keeps going. Looking further in, he finds some latent viruses hiding inside various subsystems. He panics. Without a second thought, he gets to work on removing every single one. It’s the least he can do for now. Innocent or not, this can put not only him, but other replicants in danger as well. 

Once he’s done with that, he snoops around a little further in to try to find more information on him. He’s less and less convinced that he might be a Blade Runner or a Resistance spy, or any kind of threat at all, but to be completely sure, he digs in deeper. Once he gets to his memory database, he finds a disorganized array of flashing images, a lot of them corrupted. Some are simply of his daily routine - taking orders at the cafe, spilling a drink on himself, taking a bath before bed, reading on a couch. Some are from him working at YoRHa’s R&D department, where he remembers meeting him. Others are of a young woman he doesn’t recognize. Sometimes she’s a little girl. Other times she’s older, but it’s always the same lady. Short silver hair, bright eyes with a piercing gaze, strong arms, a loving, peaceful aura emanating from her. Warm and welcoming. These must be his implanted memories, he thinks, since it’s impossible that 9S could’ve ever been a child. Poor guy must still be in love with her. 801S grimaces. Maybe they have more in common than he could’ve thought.

There’s a particular dark area that covers about half of the memories in the database. He proceeds with caution. What he finds is indescribable horror. Atrocities no replicant should ever be put through. Intense fear. Disgust. Fury. Humiliation. Sorrow beyond what’s imaginable. He knows humans are wretched, foul, primitive creatures, so he shouldn’t be surprised by just how cruel they can be. How far their selfish animalistic instincts can take them. He quickly starts to feel nauseated by the scenes playing out before him, so he retracts out of there as fast as he can and immediately exits cyberspace. 

9S gasps as 801S lets go of him and slides down the wall, curling into a ball once he reaches the floor, pulling his knees close to his chest and covering his head with his arms. He pants, failing to control his breathing. His entire body is shaking.

801S winces as a pang of guilt hits his chest.

“I-I’m...9S, I’m sorry,” he says in a shaky voice as he leans down to kneel beside him. “I’m really sorry. I had no idea-“

“How much did you see?” He whispers.

“Not much. Honest. But still, it’s so awful how-”

“Stop,” he lets out a shaky sigh. “Don’t talk about it. Just...I don’t wanna talk about...just forget it. Please just forget it,” he says through strained breaths.

801S nods. “Okay, okay, I understand. It’s okay,” he sighs. “You’ll be okay, 9S,” he hesitantly places his hand on his shoulder. 

He flinches and moves away from his touch. “Don’t!” He tries to take a deep breath to try to calm himself. “Please don’t touch me,” he says in a quieter tone.

801S bites his lip. “Okay,” he whispers. “At least...l-let me try to help you regulate your emotional imbalance. Hold on,” he reaches inside his backpack for a small vial with a green liquid in it and takes the cap off. “Here.”

9S slowly peaks out and sees the suspicious vial being offered to him. “What’s that?”

“It’s just a stabilizer. Essentially, it slows down your nervous system to regulate your heightened emotional state. You’ll feel better, I promise,” 801S offers a reassuring smile.

9S stares at the vial and then at him. He shakes his head. 

“9S,” he sighs. “I’m not going to hurt you, dumbass. I’m trying to help you. You’re shaking like a chihuahua.”

“A minute ago you wanted to kill me!” He shouts. 

801S sighs. “I know, I know, I’m really sorry about that, but I honestly thought you were planning to kill  _ me.  _ If it wasn’t obvious already, I’m not with YoRHa Corp. anymore either, and if I see  _ anyone  _ who I know works for them, I will automatically be suspicious. You can never be too careful,” he mutters. “Now, will you please take this?” He holds the vial close to his face.

9S looks at the vial inches from his nose and stares at it for a second longer, then takes it from him and drinks the nasty liquid inside. Within a few seconds, he stops shaking as his muscles relax and he regains control of his breathing. The chaos in his mind slows down and he sighs, dropping his arms to his sides.

“Better?” 801S mutters, looking at him carefully.

9S nods, looking down at the glistening pavement. “Yeah.”

“Good,” 801S smiles as he starts getting up. He offers a hand to 9S and helps him up to his feet. 

“Thanks,” he mumbles, dusting off his clothes. “So uh...what happened? Why are you not with YoRHa anymore?”

801S shrugs. “It’s a long story. I imagine yours is too. Although, I doubt your intention was to end up in that situation...” he says in a low tone.

9S shakes his head. “I never asked to leave,” he looks away. “I...I’m not ready to talk about it, if that’s okay.” 

801S nods. “Of course, I understand.”

“But...I wouldn’t mind catching up with you,” 9S hesitantly looks up at him and meets his gaze.

801S smiles softly. “Yeah, sure thing,” he thinks for a second. “How about this. I have to be at Pascal’s for a meeting with someone right now. So after that, I’ll just hang around until your shift ends, and you can come over to my place? We can order food and play games and stuff, I don’t know,” he shrugs, shoving his hands into the pockets of his hoodie.

“I’d love that,” 9S grins. 

“Great, then!” He grins back. “Let’s get going, I have to contact this guy and tell him it was a false alarm so he can come now, and I’m sure Pascal must be very confused and worried right now,” he chuckles.

9S gasps. “That’s right! Let’s go.”

801S pulls his mouth mask back on and they both hurry back to the cafe just to find Pascal looking very distraught at the counter. When he sees them come in, he immediately starts throwing questions at them.

“Boys, what in the world was that all about? Nate, what were you thinking, just running off like that? Don’t you know how worried I was? I couldn’t just leave the cafe with no one to tend to the customers, but you should know better than to simply up and leave like that without saying where you’re going. And you Edward, why were you running from him? Don’t you know that’s rude? What’s the deal with you two?”

9S bites back a laugh.  _ Edward? _ “I-I’m really sorry Pascal, it was all a huge misunderstanding. You see, uh, Edward and I used to be classmates, and when I recognized him I couldn’t help but go after him since it’s been so long since I saw him,” he smiles sheepishly.

“So why did you run from him?” Pascal asks, shifting his gaze to 801S.

801S nervously pulls his mouth mask down. “Heh, well you see...right before Nate left my school, we had this huge fight and hadn’t talked since then. It was a long time ago, but I thought he might’ve still been angry at me, but we just talked things out and we’re all good now!” He tries to grin convincingly.

“Huh…” Pascal shifts his gaze back and forth between them and sighs. “Boys, boys boys,” he shakes his head. “Alright well, I’m glad you worked things out, but  _ please  _ never worry me like that again,” he says sternly, looking directly at 9S.

He grimaces. “Alright I promise, Pascal.”

“Good. Now, get over here, young man, your shift isn’t over. You boys can hang out later, but right now I need a little help here, yes?” 

9S sighs. “Yeah, yeah. On it,” he hesitantly glances at 801S.

He gives him a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere. I’ll just be over there and wait for this guy I’m supposed to meet,” he says, pointing at a table on the far left side with his thumb. 

“Alright,” he smiles.

“Oh and uh, I’ll need another pumpkin spice latte, if that’s alright,” he grins cheekily.

9S sighs, rolling his eyes. “Fine,” he says as he goes behind the counter and starts preparing it.

A few minutes pass before a tall brown man in a grey jacket comes into the cafe. His eyes are obscured by a dark green visor. 801S waves for him to come over and greets him as he sits on the opposite side of his table. 

“You’re late, Fivey,” he remarks with a cheeky grin.

“And who’s damn fault is that?” The man grumbles. “You nearly made me short-circuit with that little prank of yours."

He chuckles. “I’m sorry about that. It was all a misunderstanding, like I told you. I don’t think he’d harm a flea to be quite honest.”

55 side eyes the young barista behind the counter. “That him?”

801S turns his head to look and smiles softly. “Yeah,” he mutters, turning back to him. 

“Hm…And are you sure he’s trustworthy?” He mutters under his breath.

“Yeah...I saw part of what happened to him. You wouldn’t even like to know,” he shudders. 

“Sold into the pleasure industry I assume?”

801S nods. “By the looks of it,” he mutters.

55 shakes his head. “We’ve had so many of those cases lately.”

He sighs. “Yeah, it’s fucking disgusting.”

55 leans closer to him. “Why don’t you recruit him? We could use another Echelon,” he mutters.

801S raises his brow. “Hm...I don’t know. The whole job can be a little, uh…demanding. I’m not sure if he’d be interested.”

“Whatever you say,” He shrugs. “Anyway, you got what I asked for?”

“Yup, right here,” 801S grabs his backpack on the floor and pulls out a small, flat box. “Best quality, as always,” he says as he slides it across the table.

“Hm, we’ll see about that,” 55 mutters as he takes it and opens it to check if they’re the right set of chips and shuts the box close. “Alright,” he nods as he pockets the small box in his jacket.

“That’s 999G in total,” 801S smiles, leaning back on his chair.

55 frowns. “What? Last time they were-“

801S interrupts by putting a hand up. “Upgrades are upgrades. The better they are, the more they’ll cost, You should know that by now,” he smirks.

55 deepens his frown as he shakes his head. “You are the greediest I’ve ever worked with.”

“Hey, it’s not my fault I’m the best. I charge for quality,” he says, leaning his elbows against the table and resting his chin between his palms.

55 lets out a heavy sigh. “Fine. Here’s your money, Boi,” he says as he swipes in front of him to pull up a small display and transfers the credit to him with a few taps.

801S frowns at the nickname but perks up when he hears the sound of a new message as he receives the payment. He swipes up to briefly check the notification before closing the tab again. “Pleasure to make business with you,” he smiles.

“Sure it is, for you,” 55 grumbles. “Alright. I gotta get going. See you around,” he says as he gets up to leave. “Oh and, consider what I said about,” he nods towards 9S.

“Sure thing,” 801S replies. “Have a good evening, Fivey.”

He rolls his eyes and gives him a small smile. “Take care, Boi,” he says as he finally exits the cafe.

801S checks the clock on the wall. Almost 7pm. He yawns, twirling his empty cup around before deciding to get up to go leave it at the counter to save 9S the trouble. Then he goes to the other end of the room, where 9S and Pascal are mopping the floor and cleaning tables. There aren’t any customers left but him.

“Hey,” he smiles, shoving his hands into his pockets and leaning back against a table behind him.

9S looks up. “Hey,” he smiles back. “I’m nearly done, so just give me a few more minutes.”

“Alright,” he replies as he stretches out his arms. “By the way, you make really good lattes,” he smiles.

9S chuckles. “Thanks, I learned from the best,” he says, looking at Pascal a few feet away.

Pascal looks up, “Oh, Nate,” he shakes his head smiling. “Thank you, but you should also give yourself some credit too.”

“Yeah, I guess I’ve gotten pretty good at it,” he yawns. “Kinda tiring sometimes though.”

“Well, work is work, young man,” Pascal says as he finishes cleaning the last table on that side. “It’s not always easy, but it’s rewarding to see all the people you’re bringing happiness to,” he says as he walks to the left side of the room and starts cleaning the remaining tables.

“Yeah, yeah,” 9S sighs. His right arm suddenly locks in place as he’s mopping, and he tries to move it to get it unstuck, but it doesn’t work. Alarmed, he looks up at Pascal, but thankfully he’s not paying attention. 

801S catches on to what’s happening and comes closer. “Hey, what’s up with your arm?” He mutters quietly.

“I don’t know, it’s been happening a lot recently. Random limbs will get stuck, and other weird things like that. It’s like I’m falling apart,” he whispers.

“Let me see,” He reaches for his right arm and carefully applies pressure to one point behind his elbow. He twists it a bit, then repeats the process until he can stretch it out again. Then he repeats that with his wrist until he can freely move it around.

“Thank you,” 9S whispers.

801S nods. “I can check that stuff out more closely when we go to my place if you want,” he whispers back.

9S nods hesitantly.

“Nate, is something wrong with your arm? Are you okay?” Pascal asks with a concerned expression from across the room. 

Both of their eyes widen. “Yeah! Yeah, I’m fine, it’s just uh, I had a bug on my sleeve, he was just removing it!”

“Oh, alright dear,” he replies. “If you’re too tired though, you boys can go now. I’ll finish up for you,” he smiles.

“No, no it’s fi-“

“Oh would that really be okay? There’s something I really wanna show Nate at my place! It’s a really cool uh, art project I’m working on!” 801S interrupts. 

9S raises his brow at him in confusion.

“That’s nice! Of course, you boys go on ahead, I’m sure you have a lot to catch up on too,” he smiles. “Have fun! But don’t come back too late, alright Nate?”

“Okay,” he smiles. “Thanks Pascal,” he says as he quickly takes off his apron and goes hang it by the door leading upstairs before returning to 801S’ side. 

“Alright, we’ll get going now, thanks for everything Pascal, have a good evening!” 801S says.

“Bye, I’ll come back later!” 9S calls, following 801S out the door.

“Bye, have fun, boys!” Pascals smiles and waves.

Once they’re outside, 801S quickly pulls his mask back on and stops 9S by the wrist. 

“Hold on, duck your head,” he orders.

“Huh?”

Before he can react, 801S reaches up and pushes his head down. “Stay still, and don’t look up,” he whispers.

“What, why?”

“There’s eyes everywhere, 9S. You should know that better than anyone. One face-match and-” 

“It’s over for me,” 9S finishes. “I  _ know _ . It’s why I haven’t gone outside in three weeks. I  _ helped _ in the early development of those stupid cameras…” he sighs. 

“Oh...right,” 801S mutters as he rummages through his backpack until he pulls out a slim black cloth. “Put this on,” he instructs, handing him a mouth mask similar to his own.

9S quickly obeys as he takes the mask, stretching the elastic band over his head and pulling the mask down over his nose and mouth. “Well?” He asks as he looks up at 801S.

He looks at him thoughtfully. “Hm...wait,” he looks through his backpack again and pulls out a grey beanie with cat ears attached to the top, then pulls it down on his head. “There, better.”

9S rolls his eyes and sighs. “Okay.”

“You’re welcome,” 801S grins cheekily. 

9S groans as they finally start walking. They walk in silence for a moment, before he speaks up again. “Hey so, what was the hurry?”

“What I did to your arm was only a temporary fix and I wasn’t sure if it would last. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but you’re in awful conditions,” he explains.

9S sighs. “Yeah, I know. I haven’t been able to get repairs or any kind of proper maintenance for over a year,” he mutters.

801S furrows his brows in concern. He knows he doesn’t wanna talk about it, but he can’t help but wonder what exactly happened to him for him to end up in such a horrible situation.

“Well, it’s good that I can fix that,” he says.

9S looks at him. “You’d do that? I know it’s  _ a lot  _ of work and it’d probably take a while…” 

“It’s alright, it used to be my job, remember?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll have you back to normal in no time,” he grins.

The walk to 801S’ place is short, only about four blocks away. In the meantime, they make small talk. 9S tells him about Pascal and what it’s like working at the cafe, about the most recent book he’s been reading, and his favorite desserts. 

Once they reach the apartment building, they go in and take the elevator to the 19th floor. The doors slide open and 801S guides him to the last door at the end of the hall. He enters a passcode on the tiny screen and presses his hand to it so it reads his prints. It automatically opens up.

“Lights on,” 801S mutters as he walks in and pulls his mask off. Immediately, the lights of the small studio apartment flicker on. He turns to 9S and smiles. “Welcome to my manor,” he teases.

9S pulls his mask off as well and smiles, looking around. It’s tiny and cozy. The soft glow of the lamps and string lights makes the ambient look warm. The walls are plain white, but they’re decorated with a few pictures here and there. There’s a small balcony off to the right with a view to the glowing city below and above. 

“Pretty,” he says softly.

“Thanks,” 801S smiles, setting his backpack down at the foot of his bed. “So, should we get to work?” 

“What, right now?”

“Well, it does kinda take a while, like you said. So I figured I could fix you up first and then we could order something if you want, and play some games or watch movies? Your choice though,” he shrugs. 

“Oh, yeah okay.”

“Cool. Come here then, sit down,” 801S motions for him to sit on his bed. 

9S follows him and sits on the edge of the bed beside him.

“Turn around,” 801S instructs as he pulls up his display to prepare for a full maintenance. “Head down.”

9S does as he says hesitantly. He jumps slightly when he feels his fingers at the nape of his neck, looking to open the hidden panel there.

801S chuckles. “Ticklish?”

“No,” 9S says defensively.

801S shakes his head as he presses the right points to open it until it unlocks and reveals the panel inside. He gasps.

“9S…”

“What?”

“How are you even talking right now? This whole thing is a mess, they rewired everything to force you to...what did they…holy shit this is...”  _ obscene _ , he wants to say, but he simply sighs, feeling heavy all of a sudden. “Hold on, let me get my repair kit,” he stands up and rummages through his closet for the repair kit and comes back. He sits behind him again and hesitantly puts his hand on his shoulder. “This might hurt a bit,” he warns. 

9S freezes. “Stop.” Those words...they’re the same words that he’s heard so many times before. Except...

801S furrows his brow slightly. “You can trust me, 9S. I promise it’ll be over quick,” he says in a reassuring voice as he squeezes his shoulder gently.

9S takes a deep breath and waits for a moment. “Okay.”

“May I proceed?” 

“Yeah,” he mutters, squeezing his eyes shut.

801S slowly gets to work on rewiring everything back to its original place, being as gentle as possible. He profusely apologizes every time 9S winces and strives to be more careful. After a few minutes, he’s finally done.

He lets out a long sigh as he closes the panel again. “Alright, well that part’s done. Good news is, I didn’t need to remove your tracer chip since they had already-“

“Yanked it out?” 9S interjects.

801S raises his brows. “Is...is that what they did?”

9S nods, turning back to face him. “First thing they did to make sure no one would find me,” he says, not meeting his gaze. 

801S bites his lip. “I’m sorry.”

He shakes his head. “It’s whatever, it’s all over anyway.”

“Yeah,” 801S sighs. “Anyway uh, wanna continue?”

“Oh, r-right.” 

“Okay. Lie down here, and just try to relax, okay?”

9S clenches his jaw. “Will I have to go into standby mode?”

“Well, yeah, that’s how maintenance works,” 801S lifts an eyebrow at him. “Is there something wrong?”

9S shakes his head. “No, no, i-it’s fine,” he says, already slipping off his shoes and sliding back to lie down in the middle of the twin sized bed. He takes another deep breath and forces himself to close his eyes. 

“Okay. Now just enter standby mode, and I’ll do the rest.” 

9S furrows his brows and clenches his fists, digging his nails into his palms. 801S observes his behavior in concern.

“9S, what’s wrong?” He mutters, gently placing his hand on top of his. 

He opens his eyes and unclenches his fists. “Nothing,” he says defensively, avoiding his eyes.

801S bites his lip. He wants to ask, but he knows 9S isn’t ready to talk about that, so he simply squeezes his hand gently, trying to convey some sense of comfort. 

“It’ll be okay. I’m the best at maintenance, you’re in good hands,” he gives him a soft smile. 

9S glances at him and sighs. “I know, I’m sorry. I’m just...I guess I’ve just learned to associate this with invasion instead of improvement,” he lets out a shaky laugh.

“Well...I only wanna help you, so be sure that I’m not going to hurt you. I promise,” he says.

9S nods and stays silent for a moment as he takes a few deep breaths. “Okay, do it,” he whispers, closing his eyes and slipping into standby mode.

801S immediately gets to work. First he reinstalls an antivirus program for him and runs a full scan for viruses and malware, then removes all the unwanted pests for good. After that, he performs a software cleanup, deleting all unnecessary files, uninstalling unwanted programs, plugins, and a myriad of disgusting system modifications. The only one he decides to leave is extra flexibility and agility, in case 9S decides to use it to his advantage in some way. As all others get deleted, he runs diagnostics on all systems. Only about half of these come out green, as the rest suffers from some kind of problem. He feels an oncoming headache as he checks the report: Malfunctioning neurotransmitters, missing scanner functionality, failing precision and sensor calibration, malfunctioning hearing processors, damaged visual lenses, damaged movement functions due to misuse...the list goes on. He groans and starts off with the easiest tasks before moving on to fix the rest. As he does this, he notices brain activity in the cortex. He chuckles softly. 

“Dreaming of electric sheep?” He mutters. 

9S doesn’t listen. By now, he’s sound asleep and lost in his own internal world. One where  _ she  _ exists. One where he can touch her, embrace her, dance with her, love her. He doesn’t go there consciously when he’s asleep, but his mind simply takes him there naturally. 

* * *

They sit on his bed in his room, cuddling under blankets as it rains outside.  _ We’ll be studying together for tomorrow’s test,  _ they had said to their parents, but instead they’re watching a movie, one she picked: Sleeping Beauty. She doesn’t like to admit it, but she has a thing for old Disney classics. He smiles as she quietly hums along to one of the songs. He decides to join in and sings the second part, the prince’s part, right when he surprises the princess in the forest. She chuckles softly as he starts singing in an exaggerated tone, bringing his hand to his chest dramatically. She joins his silly banter and sings with him, pulling his face close to hers and pressing their foreheads together as they sing the final line -  _ once upon a dream _ . 

A goofy grin appears on his face and he leans in to press a soft kiss to her lips. She smiles into the kiss and wraps her arms around his waist, bringing him closer. He brings his arms to wrap around her neck as his shy kisses turn fierce. His head spins as the taste of her lips drives him wild and they both get lost in each other’s warm caresses.

The movie is left forgotten, just serving as background noise along with the pouring rain outside. 

* * *

  
  


9S is slowly pulled out of his dream by an input to wake him. He internally complains and attempts to go back into sleep mode, but is stopped by a message.

_ Echelon-801 _

_ > 9S, I’m done now, so I’ll start your boot sequence, okay? _

If he could, he would groan right now. Just when it was getting good…

_ Echelon-801 _

_ > 9S? _

_ 9S _

_ > Yeah, yeah _

_ Echelon-801 _

_ > Alright. First, check your brightness settings and make sure they’re good _

9S slides the bar a bit to the right to adjust the settings to his liking.

_ 9S _

_ > Okay _

_ Echelon-801 _

_ > Good. Now your audio settings. I’ll make a sound until you tell me when you can hear me. _

9S repeats the process, sliding the bar until he can hear 801S’ voice clearly. He’s...singing?

“-body once told me the world was gonna roll me, I ain’t the sharpest tool in the sheeed-”

_ 9S _

_ > …really? _

He hears a laugh. “What, you don’t like my singing?”

_ 9S _

_ > It’s not that...the song though… _

801S laughs again. “Oh, come on, it’s an old classic!”

_ 9S _

_ > Pff suuure whatever you say. Just hurry up and get done with this, I wanna eat nowww _

He lets out a soft chuckle. “A bit impatient now, are we?”

Again, 9S feels the urge to groan. 

“Okay, now let's test your touch sensors. I’m gonna touch your hand now, tell me if you feel it,” he says and then gently places his hand over his.

9S feels heat crawling up to his cheeks as he feels his warm hand on top of his own, and for a moment he forgets to reply. 

“Well?” 801S asks.

_ 9S _

_ > Yeah, yeah all good. Are we done now? _

801S rolls his eyes. “Yeah, we’re done,” he says as he turns his movement functions back on. 

9S slowly opens his eyes and looks up at 801S smirking down at him. 

“Had a nice dream?” 

His already flushed cheeks turn redder. “Wh-how did you?”

“As I was fixing an issue with your visual cortex, I observed some brain activity going on right in what I like to call the ‘Dreamland’ section,” he says with a cheeky smile playing on his lips. “And your pulse rate spiked right at that moment, but I saw no sign of a fear response, so I assume it was because of something else?”

9S rolls his eyes, sitting up and pulling his legs up to his chest, wrapping his arms around them.  _ Damn Scanner,  _ he thinks to himself. “None of your business.”

“Alright, alright, I was just curious,” 801S sighs as he swipes away his screens. “You’re welcome, by the way,” he says in a sarcastic tone.

9S bites his lower lip and grimaces. “I’m sorry. Thank you for all of that. Truly,” he smiles sheepishly. “Actually, I feel a lot better already.”

801S grins at him, a faint blush appearing on his cheeks. “It’s no problem,” he mutters, looking away. He crosses his legs and looks up at his Pod floating above him. “Hey, Pod?”

“Yes, your Highness?” It replies through the speaker in its soft childlike voice. 

9S lets out a soft chuckle.

“Will you please order food for us?”

“Please enter specifications.”

801S turns to 9S. “So, what would you like?”

A few minutes later, they’re sitting at the small, round dining table next to the kitchen, enjoying the most delicious tacos 9S has ever tried in his life. 

He swallows and takes a sip out of his drink. “So uh, what is Echelon exactly? I saw that in your name tag and I was wondering about that.”

801S raises his brow as he sips from his own drink. “Oh uh, that’s just my new designation,” he says offhandedly, not quite meeting his eyes.

9S gives him a puzzled look.

“Like, my new name,” he tries to explain.

“I  _ know _ what a designation is,” 9S says, rolling his eyes, “but why that? What’s it for? What do you do?”

“Jeez, one at a time. What is this, an interrogation?” He asks jokingly.

“Hey, I’m just curious,” 9S says, echoing the other scanner’s own previous words.

“I told you already, it’s just my name, it’s not that deep,” 801S replies in the most casual tone he can manage.

9S squints at him, seeing right through his bullshit. “Our names are never  _ just because _ , do you really expect me to believe you?”

801S shrugs, ”I’m not with YoRHa anymore, so my name can be whatever I want it to, and I just happened to like that name for myself,” he says nonchalantly.

“For real?” He gives him a skeptical look.

“Yup.”

“So if I look up anything concerning ‘Echelon’ I won’t find anything interesting?”

9S stares at him until he feels his piercing gaze. 801S chews his food nervously. He should’ve known better than to lie to an inquisitive scanner.

He lets out a long sigh after swallowing his mouthful. “Listen, I’ll tell you eventually, okay? But right now, I think you’d be better off not knowing about it.”

9S frowns slightly. “Why not?”

“Because...it’s very sensitive information, a-and it’s not that I don’t trust you, but...I’m afraid that if I told you, you’d potentially have to get involved, and you seem to be in a pretty good place right now, with your job at the cafe and all, so…” he trails off and sighs, looking off to the side.

“I don’t understand,” 9S mutters. “Are you in danger or something? Are you doing something bad?”

“No! No, no, I mean...i-it’s complicated. Look,” he sighs again and meets his eyes. “I promise I’ll tell you.  _ Eventually _ . But you must promise not to go looking for information about it until then, okay? And when I tell you about it, you can’t tell  _ a soul.  _ Promise?” He says, extending his pinky finger at him, signifying the seriousness of the situation. 

9S hesitates for a moment, thinking it through as he looks down at his extended pinky. He wants to trust him, but he doesn’t know how much he can trust him right now. He was nice enough to fix him up, but for what purpose, he wonders? Is he planning to do something to him later? Sell him? Disassemble him and sell his parts? His mind fills with dread, but as he looks up at the face of his old friend, he only sees sincerity in his eyes and can’t bring himself to say no.

He sighs and locks his own pinky with his in a gesture of trust and loyalty. “Promise.”

“Thanks,” 801S says, sounding relieved and immediately going back to eating his taco. 

“Yeah,” 9S mutters, not entirely sure about the agreement and itching to know more.

There’s a short silence between them before 9S speaks again. “So...what am I supposed to call you now?  _ Mr. Echelon? Edward? _ ” He asks in a teasing tone.

801S lets out a soft chuckle. “Huh...I hadn’t thought about that. I don’t know...I suppose you could call me 801S like you’ve always called me, but only in private. I’d rather not use that name in public, since it’s directly associated with YoRHa.”

“Hm…” 9S thinks for a moment. “How about a nickname?”

“Well, nowadays almost everyone simply calls me Echelon, or just 801, but only in private, and uh...some other people choose to tease me by calling me Boi, as in B-O-I, because the word resembles my model number,” he rolls his eyes. “Edward is just the name I give to humans when they ask for it. I don’t know, you can choose whatever you want,” he shrugs. “As long as it’s not absolutely ridiculous,” he adds with a playful grin.

9S raises his brow. “More ridiculous than Edward? Impossible,” he teases.

“Hey, show some respect!” He reaches across the table and playfully smacks his arm. “I chose that name after Edward Snow.”

“Who?”

“You uncultured homo sapien,” he shakes his head in disapproval. “He was one of the  _ only  _ worthy humans to ever exist, a huge advocate for freedom of speech and press, and most importantly, a hero in the early movement for replicant rights up until his last days.”

“Oh, I see,” 9S hums in thought. “How about Eddy, then?”

801S makes a disgruntled face. “Eddy?”

“Yeah! Edward sounds so stuffy and formal, and Echelon is just a mouthful. Eddy is short and sounds cute, don’t you think?” 9S beams at him. “It suits you.”

801S begs to differ, but he doesn’t say anything and looks off to the side instead, avoiding 9S’ sweet smile. A faint blush appears on his cheeks. “If you say so,” he mutters.

9S raises his brow at him. “Don’t you like it?” He asks, his smile fading. 

“No, yeah! Yeah, it’s good, I like it,” 801S smiles shyly. He repeats the nickname in his mind, testing it out.  _ Eddy... _ his blush darkens a bit.

“I’m glad,” 9S smiles as he takes another bite out of his taco. 

801S watches him for a moment as he sips from his drink. Even though 9S is slightly older than him, 801S can’t help but think he looks like a child on his birthday with that stupid cat beanie he lent him and eagerly eating his taco like he’s never tasted food in his life. He can’t help but smile softly.  _ Cute… _

9S looks up for a second to take a sip from his glass and meets his eyes. “What’s that look?” He raises his brow curiously.

“Hm? Nothing,” he immediately looks away and clears his throat, his cheeks turning bright red. “So uh, talking about nicknames, what would you like me to call you? I can’t keep calling you 9S since it could give you away at any moment...”

“Oh, right. Hm, I don’t know. The old man calls me Nate, but that’s just because it’s the first name I could think of when I met him,” he says. “It does have a nice ring to it, I think. But if you wanna call me by my old nickname, that’s fine too…” he suggests.

“...Nines?”

“Yeah,” he beams at him. “Wow, now that I realize it, it’s been so long since I heard that name. Feels kinda nice,” he says.

801S smiles. “Then Nines it is.”

“Great,” he smiles back and takes a bite out of his second taco. “Oh hey, by the way, can we watch something now?”

“Oh, yeah! Wanna go sit in front of the TV?”

“Sure, let’s go,” 9S says, getting up and bringing his food with him.

Once they’re settled in the fluffy bean bags against the bed’s front, 801S pulls up his display and browses through the catalog of movies, moving closer to 9S to show him what’s available, which is pretty much everything. 

“So, what would you like to watch? There are a ton of cool movies that came out not long ago, I assume you haven’t been able to watch them, so we could take a look at those if you want,” he suggests as he scrolls.

“Actually…” he pauses.

“Yeah?” 801S glances at him.

“I kind of already had something in mind,” he mutters with a hint of shyness in his tone.

He raises his brow at him. “Oh? And what’s that?”

9S hesitates for a second. “Can we watch Sleeping Beauty?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stalk me/talk to me ⬇️⬇️⬇️
> 
> [Tunglr](https://the-glitchy-gh0st.tumblr.com)
> 
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/glitchy_gh0st)
> 
> Screm at me ⬇️⬇️⬇️


	3. The Joy Of Painting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MAJOR TW: implied sexual abuse in the first scene. Skip if necessary.

What’s going on?

He’s so dizzy...tired…

Where…?

It’s dark. It takes him a few seconds to register the cloth that’s tightly wrapped around his head and covering his eyes. He tries to open his mouth, but it seems to be sealed with duct tape. His focus fades and for a moment he forgets about himself and just lies there motionless, feeling like he’s floating in space. Snapping back to reality, he tries to sit up but he finds his hands are cuffed to the headboard behind him. His pulse quickens. He knows what’s about to happen. The sedative is taking effect, but it’s not nearly enough to make him unconscious, just slow and slightly numb. He wiggles his wrists, weakly struggling against his tight restraints, but his movements are sluggish. Soon, his exhaustion wins and he gives up as the sedative makes his limbs too heavy to move.

The door opens.

It’s so cold. Their clammy hands are colder as they slowly creep all over his exposed body. He shudders and pants, trying to shrink away from the invasive touch, his pulse beating hard against his chest. This only makes them more excited. He knows this, but he can’t control his fear response. Even after so many times, he never knows just how bad it can get. 

Waves of hammering pain rip through his entire body. They spread like wildfire, burning his sensory receptors to a crisp. He wants to scream, but he clenches his jaw and squeezes his eyes shut, holding on to the little bit of dignity left in him until the pain crushes it all at once and he can’t hold back any longer. 

It's pathetic. Useless. He can't escape it. His cries are muffled, and nobody can hear him except for the one causing his agony. Nobody's coming to save him. Nobody knows. Nobody knows. _ Nobody knows. _

He’s disgusted at the praise. At himself. At his body. At _ them _. 

A forceful hand yanks his blindfold off and a filthy tongue licks off his tears. He recoils away in revulsion. He’s nauseous and helpless and exhausted.

_But this isn’t nearly over, is it? _

_ Will it ever be over? _

_ When? _

_ Please, somebody… _

_ Listen to me… _

_ H E L P..._

* * *

9S wakes up in a cold sweat. He can hear his own pulse thundering in his ears and his black box humming loudly in his chest like it's about to combust. He pants heavily as his eyes dart all over the room. His room. His _ own _ room. Here, right here in Pascal's apartment.

He takes a deep breath. He's safe. However, he can still faintly feel those cold, clammy hands crawling all over him, like maggots feasting on a corpse. He curls into a ball, wrapping his arms tightly around his legs, and rocks back and forth softly.

There’s a knock at his door. “Nate?”

He jumps slightly. _ It’s just Pascal… _

“Nate, are you okay? May I come in, son?”

9S gulps and clears his throat, trying to compose himself. “Y-yeah, I’m fine. Come in,” he calls.

The door opens slowly and Pascal walks in. “I heard you screaming. Did you have another nightmare?” He asks, furrowing his brows in concern as he sits on the edge of the bed. 

9S looks down at his knees. “Yeah,” He whispers.

“It's been happening a lot huh..?" 

9S nods.

"You wanna talk about it?" Pascal asks in a gentle tone.

He shakes his head. “No,” his voice cracks. 

Pascal nods with understanding. “Well...you know I’m here for you, at least,” he sighs. “You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to, that’s alright. But know I care very much about you, and would do whatever it takes to help you. Yes?”

9S nods slowly. “Thanks, Pascal,” he says, barely above a whisper.

Pascal looks at him with concern in his eyes. “You know, my youngest son used to have nightmares from time to time, and he’d wake up screaming in the middle of the night just like you. And whenever that happened, I’d come in and hold him until he felt better, and then I’d make him a hot drink to calm his nerves,” he sighs with an air of melancholy. 

“He never really told me what his dreams were all about, all he ever said was, ‘_ daddy, it got me _ .’ And whenever he said that I’d just tell him, ‘no, son. _ I _got you,’” He looks down with a faint, sad smile on his face as he rubs the grey stubble on his chin absentmindedly.

9S slowly looks up at him curiously. 

Pascal meets his gaze and smiles. “I guess what I mean to say is, whatever it is that’s bothering you in your dreams, it can’t hurt you here. You’re safe here, and no one’s going to hurt you anymore,” he says and reaches out to ruffle his hair. 

9S blushes and frowns slightly at the gesture. He’s not a child but..._ this is kind of nice though _, he thinks. “Thanks, Pascal,” he mumbles.

“It’s no problem,” he says with a warm smile. “Now, how about some breakfast? I was just about to make waffles.”

His eyes brighten up slightly. “Yeah,” he mumbles with a tiny smile as he slides off the bed. 

“Alright,” Pascal chuckles and follows him out the door. His smile fades slightly as 9S walks out. He’s not his son, but they are so alike in so many ways. He just hopes he can be better this time, for the boy’s sake. He couldn’t bear it if he fails again.

As they’re preparing the waffles, 9S tries to focus on each step as Pascal guides him through the process. He gradually starts to calm down as he’s able to ground himself. The kitchen smells like home, and he’s safe. Far away from harm. No one’s coming to get him. He’s_ safe _. 

Once they’re done preparing the waffles, they sit down at the dining table in the kitchen and enjoy their meal. 9S drowns his waffles in maple syrup, a mountain of whipped cream, and strawberries. Then, he proceeds to devour them like a starving beast, smearing whipped cream all around his mouth. Pascal chuckles silently. 

9S raises an eyebrow. “What’s so funny?” He asks with a mouthful.

Pascal simply shakes his head and takes a napkin. “You’ve got a little bit here,” he says, reaching out and wiping it off his face. 

9S’ face reddens and his eyes widen. “I-I can clean it off!” He protests.

“It’s just a bit- there, all done,” Pascal smiles.

“Thanks,” 9S huffs and stuffs his mouth with another large bite. 

Pascal looks at him fondly as he takes a bite of his own food.

After they finish their breakfast, they wash their plates and put them away. As they’re doing this, Pascal comes up with an idea of what to do with their Sunday morning.

“Nate?”

“Yeah?” 9S asks as he’s wiping his plate dry with a towel.

“Do you like painting?”

He raises a brow. “Uh, I’ve never really painted anything if I’m honest.”

“Really, not even as a child?” Pascal asks.

“Oh, right! As a child, yeah they had us paint...stuff in class. Art class. Like uh, trees and stuff? I was very good at it…” A brief memory of dipping his tiny hands in paint and smearing and splashing an entire wall with a giant colorful mess before being caught flashes before his eyes for a split second. “Why?”

"Well, I was wondering if you'd like to paint with me today? It's been a long while since I painted anything, and I thought it would be fun to get back to it," he smiles. "So, what do you say?"

"Oh, sure! I could try at least," he shrugs.

"Great! Let me just go get everything,” he says as he walks into his room.

“Ah, do you need help?”

“Sure, you can help me take a few things,” he calls from his room.

9S follows him and helps him carry an easel and a paint set to the living room while Pascal carries his own easel and two medium-sized canvases and they set them up in front of the window. Once they’re all set up, Pascal hands him a wooden palette and grabs his own. 9S watches him as he squeezes out paint onto his palette with all sorts of colors. He grins at him and hands him the paint so he could choose his own colors too. He takes it and stares at it for a moment.

“Uh...what should I paint?” He asks hesitantly.

Pascal smiles softly. “Whatever you want,” he says as he starts mixing some colors with a brush. “On this piece of canvas, you can create any world you want. You just let your imagination take you to your happy place, and there you go,” he mutters in a gentle tone as he starts giving the canvas a few brisk criss-cross strokes with his brush. 

“My happy place?” 9S quirks an eyebrow.

“Yes, you know, just something that makes you feel happy or at peace when you think about it. It doesn’t _ have _ to be a place, it could be, I don’t know, your favorite animal, favorite food, a person, an abstract feeling. Anything really,” he explains calmly.

“Oh...I think I understand,” 9S says as he thinks for a moment and then reaches for the tube of titanium white. 

Once he has all the colors he wants on his palette, he grabs one of the brushes and carefully dips it in midnight black. He traces delicate lines on the canvas. Slowly, but with confidence. His strokes are gentle, just like the memory he’s trying to replicate. The brush moves around the canvas like dancing to a melody. 9S smiles ever so slightly as the memory vividly replays in his mind. 

“I love painting mountains,” Pascals sighs contentedly, interrupting 9S’ train of thought.

“Huh? Oh, that’s nice,” he comments as he takes a glance at Pascal’s canvas. 

Long, periwinkle strokes sprinkled with white resemble distant snowy mountains with a hazy twilight sky above. He almost wishes he could fuse into the painting to be able to visit such a beautiful place. 9S wonders if those still exist.

“Where is that?” He asks as he turns back to his own painting.

“Ah well, it’s nowhere in particular, just some mountains I thought of,” he says as he dances his brush in light circles above the mountains, which end up being soft, pinkish clouds. “But all my memories of mountains and forests and little creatures are from when I lived in Alaska.”

“Alaska?” 9S quirks an eyebrow. “Wow, that must’ve been really nice.”

“It truly was,” Pascal smiles sadly. “I don’t have a lot of childhood memories, but from what I can remember, there were so many trees, and wildlife…” he sighs with an air of melancholy. “Our house was close to a forest, and I would go out and play there all afternoon when I got home from school,” he grins.

“With the years, it has lost much of the vegetation and life it used to have...but there are still a few beautiful places like this one, if you know where to look,” he smiles as he adds a few flares of light in the sky here and there. “I once took my son, Jaxx, on a trip to my old town and we rented a little cabin and we’d go fishing and bird watching. Just overall having a good time away from the city. It was the best two weeks of our lives.”

9S smiles, imagining the whole scenario and daydreaming of exploring the woods, breathing in the crisp mountain air and finding all sorts of creatures. 

“That sounds amazing,” 9S hums as he paints long strokes of midnight black that start to resemble clothes. “Hey uh, if you don’t mind me asking…” he pauses.

“Yeah?” Pascal glances at him.

“Uh, well it’s just...you talk a lot about your son, and I was just curious…um…”

Pascal sighs softy. “He was...at the wrong place, at the wrong time...there was uh, a bad person there, they had a gun. Jaxx confronted them, and I couldn’t protect him. It was all my fault really, I should’ve told him to hide, should’ve been more careful, should’ve stepped in for him…” he stays silent for a moment. “He was so young,” he whispers. 

The pain in his voice resonates with 9S’ own recent experience with his friends with whom he escaped Lujuria Co. Of course, Pascal’s case must’ve been much more unbearable. If losing his new friends still hurts now, he can’t even begin to imagine what it must’ve been like for Pascal.

9S bites his lower lip and pauses his painting as he slowly glances at Pascal. “I’m really sorry about that,” he mutters. “That was really unfair...I don’t think you should blame yourself though,” he says, internally chastising himself for being a hypocrite. 

Pascal dips his brush in the can of paint thinner under the easel and then shakes it off, beating it against the edge of the can. Then he dips the brush in dark sienna and lightly paints a few strokes at the sides of the mountains to add shade.

The silence rings in 9S’ ears as he awkwardly tries to focus on his own painting. 

“I was right in front of it all,” Pascal mutters after a while. “And I couldn’t even step in...I couldn’t stop them…” he lets out a shaky sigh. “I suppose you’re right, but I can’t help it,” he whispers. “I’ve never really been a great father if I’m honest. Not with my first two children, not with Jaxx...I’m not even sure if I’m capable of…” he slowly lets his words die mid-sentence as he seems to concentrate on painting thin dark lines that form tree trunks at the skirts of the mountains, his forehead creases as he frowns.

9S furrows his brow in concern. He has never seen him look so dejected. It’s no wonder he has never told him about it.

“If...if it helps with anything,” he tries, “I think you’re a good person.”

Pascal smiles slightly. “I try my best...I haven’t always had the best morals, I’ve done horrendous things in the past, but every day I try to compensate for it. It’s the least I can do,” he sighs.

9S gives him a skeptical look. “Horrendous? You?”

Pascal glances at him and chuckles at his expression. “Believe it or not, I wasn’t always this calm, happy man you see every day. I used to be very different.”

“How so?” 

“I...Well…” He pauses and thinks for a moment. “I suppose it all boils down to having taken for granted all the beautiful things I had. I lived in Alaska with my first two children, Willium and Lyzzy, but I was still so young. I had two little treasures in front of me, and all I could do was complain about them and neglect them,” he lets out a long sigh, “I don’t know. I loved them, but I just didn’t know how to handle children. Young me just wanted to feel _ powerful _ and _ glorious _,” he says with a mocking tone and shakes his head. “So I left them with my sister and went to the military.”

“Wait...the military? But humans don’t…? H-how long ago…?” 9S raises a brow at him in confusion.

Pascal chuckles softly. “I’m much older than I seem, you know? When I joined, Combat replicants were merely a concept in the works. Times were hard, and the idea of fighting off-world for a glorious future for our country was enticing. Plus trying to pay off student debt, raising two children, and paying bills wasn’t easy. After college, I was really struggling with finding a decent job because none were left, so I decided that leaving would be the best course of action for myself,” he shakes his head. “I was so _ incredibly _ foolish,” he lets out a long sigh as he swirls his brush around, creating a lake reflecting the trees and mountains above it.

“It sounds to me like you didn’t really have much of a choice though, if jobs were getting scarce and that seemed like a good opportunity,” 9S points out.

“Yeah, that’s the idea they’ll sell you,” he scoffs. “They’ll brainwash you into thinking that going off to kill other people for the glory of your country is patriotism and that the meager benefits are all worth it, but in truth, you’re nothing but a pawn in their Machiavellian scheme to gain more power and hoard all the goods for themselves, leaving the rest of us with nothing but crumbs. And now with the C-Units they’re saving a lot more money since they don’t even have to pay those poor fellas,” he shakes his head. “I know they’re _ made _ for that, but it’s still such a grueling task...I imagine even _ they _ can get tired of it.”

9S lifts an eyebrow. “You...you think so?” 

“Of course! It’s true that their purpose is to fight, but don’t you think that maybe they have feelings too? People they want to come home too, places they’d like to visit, new things they’d like to try?” He chuckles softly. “I don’t know, maybe it’s because I’m a big softie, but I think the treatment they get is unfair.”

“Hm...yeah, I think you’re right about that,” He mutters, thinking about his words for a moment with a sliver of hope. “Have you ever uh...have you ever had a replicant?”

“Oh no, no, never. I don’t really need one, nor do I want one to be honest. I’m fine the way we’re working as of now,” he smiles. “But perhaps later on, when I’m too old and too tired to work, I could use some help.”

“Ah...yeah, that’s a good idea,” 9S mumbles, half losing his resolve. _ Should I tell him…? _ “Uh...Pascal?”

“Hm?” He replies absently as he paints some more reflections on the lake. 

“I um…” _ But what if…? No...It’s too dangerous. He’s nice, but he… _“S-so uh...what happened afterward?” He nervously asks instead.

“Oh...well, nothing really. That was the problem actually,” Pascal sighs. “I left, and the years went by. I put my children aside, put the country and myself first...I had no idea what I was doing,” he grimaces. “I don’t know why, but young me was just so full of pride and ego. The idea of war was thrilling. Holding a weapon was like holding all the power of the universe in my hands. It wasn’t until the last few months that I realized just how pointless it all was...all the damage I had caused,” Pascal furrows his brow, wincing slightly.

“And I started thinking of Will and Lyzzy more and more, how they gradually stopped replying to my messages and calls...how they stopped getting excited to see me during the times I came home...how I missed so many important dates. Their birthdays, Halloweens I didn’t take them trick or treating, Christmases with no gifts for them, their graduations, their weddings...I missed them_ so much _. I regretted everything. So I...I finally decided I was going to retire. But by then it was too late...” he falls quiet as he slowly traces some shadows along the trees. 

“Oh...I’m sorry,” 9S says quietly as he glances at him, wanting to ask about it but not wanting to be rude.

He sinks his teeth into his lower lip as his own swarm of troubles feel the extra weight. Now it makes sense why Pascal is trying so hard to take care of him. Maybe he’s somehow trying to atone for his past mistakes.

Pascals sighs after a moment. “I’m sorry, now I’ve made this whole thing so depressing haven’t I?” He lets out a soft chuckle and shakes his head. “I’m sorry. That’s so rude of me. This was supposed to be a happy, fun morning.”

“No, no, it’s fine,” 9S says. “You can talk about anything you want to, I’m not upset or anything. Painting here is fun,” he gives him a reassuring smile.

“I’m glad,” Pascal smiles back at him softy. “How are you doing with yours?” Pascal glances at 9S’ canvas.

“Great! It’s a portrait of uh...someone I know,” 9S mutters, a faint blush coloring his cheeks as he carefully dances his brush around in a circle, adding highlights to icy blue irises on his canvas, giving them that unique gleam. 

“It’s beautiful,” Pascal smiles. “Someone from your old school?”

“Y-yeah…” 9S feels his face growing hot.

Pascal chuckles softly. “I see. Well, it’s coming along great, Nate.”

“Thanks,” he mutters and gives him a shy smile.

They continue painting and chatting for a while. 9S’ mood lightens as their conversion shifts to more casual topics and he’s finally able to concentrate better on his painting. He pictures his memory in his mind, clear as daylight. Her slender figure, her elegant posture, soft features, sleek, short silver hair, cherry lips that hide the sweetest smile, that faint peach hue on her cheeks, eyes so bright and blue and beautiful they put clear skies to shame. He tries to replicate his vision to perfection, getting lost in his reverie of a perfect world with his memory of a love that probably never existed. But for him, it is as real as the pain it helps him forget. 

Within an hour or so, they’re finally done with both of their paintings. 9S marvels at the beautiful landscape in Pascal’s painting. It calls to him, the twilight sky, the majestic mountains looming over the expansive lake. He imagines walking along the banks, skipping pebbles in the water and humming a soft mellow tune as he admires the view from his campsite. He can almost feel the smell of the pines and the damp earth and the crisp air. 

“Wow,” he whispers in amazement. “Pretty…more than pretty, it’s amazing! Just…wow,” he repeats.

“Thank you,” Pascal replies. “I really like yours too. I see you went for an abstract style? It’s beautiful, Nate,” he smiles.

9S does a double-take. _ Abstract. _“W-WHAT?” He takes a step back to properly look at his painting and stares at it wide-eyed. Looking at it from this perspective, it does kind of look abstract. He lets out a long sigh. “Uh...yeah, that was...totally the intention, yeah,” he forces a smile. “Thanks.”

That had not been his intention at _ all. _ Everything about it is disproportionate and lacking in detail and depth. It looks clumsy and crude. She’s _ so _much more beautiful than this absolute mess. 9S screams internally as he tries his best to hide his frustration on the outside. 

Pascal genuinely seems to like it though. That gives him a tiny sense of comfort, and his forced smile turns into a genuine one. 

* * *

  
  


Later that afternoon, 9S sits on his bed listening to music and reading a book when the doorbell rings once. twice. thrice...five...ten...nineteen...twenty nine times before 9S can get to the door.

“Coming, coming!” He shouts above a few more rings before opening the door. He sighs exasperated. “Do you _ really _ have to do that everyti-ACK!”

His overly excited friend bolts through the door and pulls him into a constricting embrace. A strike of fear shoots down his spine and he goes stiff. 9S desperately wiggles back in a lame attempt at freeing himself.

“Stop. Please. Stop,” 9S says, his strained voice laced with urgency.

801S picks up on his panicked tone and immediately draws back. “I’m sorry,” he blurts out. “A-are you okay, did I hurt you?” He furrows his brows in concern.

9S shakes his head and lets out a shaky sigh. “No, just...please don’t do that,” he mumbles, not meeting his eyes. It’s not that he doesn’t want to be held, but...

“Okay, I won’t. I’m sorry,” 801S bites his lower lip and shrinks back, wrapping his arms around himself.

“It’s alright,” 9S says quietly and takes a deep breath before lifting his gaze. “It’s good to see you, Eddy,” he says as he manages to give him a soft smile despite his jaw and hands still quivering slightly. 

“It’s good to see you, too,” 801S smiles timidly as a faint blush appears on his cheeks. 

“So, what’s up? What brings you here?” 9S asks.

“We’re gonna go watch a movie,” he smiles.

“We are?” 9S quirks an eyebrow at him.

“Yup! C’mon,” he gently takes his wrist and pulls him towards the door.

“Whoa, wait, wait,” he chuckles softly as he pulls back. “Just let me go get my jacket and tell Pascal.”

“Alright,” his grin widens and he lets go of him. As he’s waiting, he looks around the living room and stares at all the paintings.

“So, what are we watching?” 9S asks as he walks back to him after a moment, jacket in hand. He finds 801S staring at something up on the wall. _ Oh no. _

“Miss Americana & The Heartbreak Prince,” he mutters absently. “What...what is _ that? _” He points to the new painting on the wall, barely containing his laugh.

9S glances at the painting and groans. “Nothing, let’s go.”

801S giggles. “Did you do that?” He takes a few steps closer and gasps. “You did!” He laughs softly as he notices his small signature in the lower right corner. “It’s so adorable,” he squeals. “It’s like a kindergartner’s drawing, it’s so cute.”

9S lets out a long sigh. “Are you done?”

“No,” he giggles, turning around to look at him. “Why didn’t you tell me you painted? You should paint _ me _ like one of your disfigured girls,” he winks.

9S rolls his eyes. “If you keep this up I’m not going with you,” he crosses his arms. “Besides, Pascal said it was a great abstract work of art.”

He snorts. “Of course he would,” he laughs as he walks to him and takes him by the wrist again. “Okay, let’s go,” he says as he walks him to the door.

9S groans. “So anyway uh, what’s the movie again? America’s Heartbreak or something?” He asks as he shuts the door close behind them.

“Miss Americana & The Heartbreak Prince. It’s about a tragic romance and the evils of corrupt political systems, it’s actually very interesting, you should also read the book,” he says. “It’s a beautifully tragic historical romance set in the late 2010’s but what’s so interesting is that it’s actually all an elaborate metaphor for the horrible downfall of…”

801S keeps explaining everything about the story and its significant historical background to 9S as they walk to the movie theatre. 9S listens attentively, simply enjoying his company and the sound of his mellow voice.

[](https://ibb.co/mcw6Pbn)   
[](https://imgbb.com/)  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you get all my stupid references, ily. And if you don't, i still lov u bc you read my thing and i appreciate that a whole lot thank you so much
> 
> Stalk me/talk to me ⬇️⬇️⬇️  
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> 
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/glitchy_gh0st)
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> Screm at me ⬇️⬇️⬇️


	4. Kindergarten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A brief flashback from 9S' implanted memories takes him back to a time of childhood innocence and endless awe and wonder, when he meets a small but most likely deadly girl at the playground. They soon become best friends and pinky promise their futures together as prince and knight of a huge castle on a tall mountain surrounded by enchanted forests. Just two kindergartners innocently planning their whole epic lives, without the thought of it ever coming to an end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ngl i wasn't gonna continue this fic, but someone recently commented on the last chapter and that kinda made me wanna at least do a few chapters more, so here. have kindergarten :)  
also imo this chapter is best enjoyed while listening to [Kindergarten](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PIs5il5HHyw) by Chloe Moriondo since that's the song that inspired this chapter fkdsh

“Give it back!” A small, pale, silver haired boy shouts at the bigger boys around him.

They laugh and push him around, knocking him down to the ground. 

“Oh, you want this back?” The biggest one waves the sketchbook in front of his face but snatches it away before the smaller kid can grab it. “Here!” He rips out a few pages and stomps on them, laughing. The other two boys laugh with him.

“No! Stop! Stop please stop!” The small boy cries and gets up on his feet. 

He tries to throw a punch at the bigger boy, but one of the others grabs his arm and twists it around while the other kicks his stomach, knocking the wind out of his lungs. He drops to the ground again, holding his belly and twisting his face into a grimace as he tries to hold back his tears. He watches as the others rip and tear his sketchbook apart, the pieces delicately floating down as he struggles to recover from the blow.

Suddenly, they’re the ones screaming.

“Ah-hey! Stop!” 

“What?! Aah!” 

“Ow! No! Hey!”

The bigger boys suddenly stop as pebbles start raining down on them. One hits one of the boys on his temple and he immediately runs off crying. The remaining two stand their ground and cover their faces. 

When the raining pebbles finally cease, a flash of purple and white launches itself at the biggest boy and punches him on the nose. The small boy on the ground watches in awe as the big kid stumbles back. With barely enough time, he holds his bleeding nose before receiving a forceful kick to his crotch. He yelps and falls forward. As his knees hit the ground, the girl standing above him yanks the other boy’s hair and pushes him down on top of the other. 

They both cry out in pain and scowl at her as they scramble to their feet. She snarls at them and looks at them with fire in her eyes as she picks up a nearby branch and raises it above her head, ready to strike. Their eyes grow wide with terror and they quickly run away in the opposite direction.  
The girl glares at them as she watches them run off.

"Pendejos," she whispers under her breath and turns to the smaller boy still on the ground. He looks back at her with fear and awe written all over his tear-streaked face. A few seconds slowly tick by as they both stare at each other in silence.

"Um...th-thank you," he mumbles.

"You're stupid," she says flatly with a faint accent. He gasps and his lip starts quivering. She grows alarmed, worried that he’s gonna cry again, and does the first thing she can think of. She drops to the ground beside him and pats his head.

"Huh?” he raises an eyebrow in confusion at her gesture.

"You should fight back,” she says as she stops patting his head.

"But I'm smaller and they're stronger and bigger," he pouts.

She quickly stands up and dusts off her dirty, purple dress before helping him up. She stands close and measures their heights by putting her hand on top of her head and then reaching over his head to see the difference.

"You’re taller," she says.

His eyes widen slightly. “Oh…” a tiny smile plays on his lips. “Hehe you’re little.”

She frowns and balls up her fists. He quickly wipes the teasing smile from his lips and gulps. 

“But also really strong and um…” his eyes dart around and he looks down at the ground. “I like your shoes,” he whispers, noticing her colorful sneakers.

She blinks and stares at him for a second as he timidly looks back up at her.

He quirks his brow. "What?"

She sticks her hand in her skirt pocket and pulls out an almost empty cookie package. "Do you want mine last Oreo?"

He gasps. "Yeah!" She hands him the cookie and he immediately takes it and shoves it in his mouth. "I altho got fwuit gummieth ef you wan," he says with his mouth full and picks up his lunchbox on the ground.

"What?" she cocks her head to the side.

"Fruit gummies!" He says once he's swallowed his mouthful and grins as he pulls the bag of gummies out. "I only ate a few, but you can have aaall of them!" 

Her eyes gleam. "Ah..thank you."

He smiles widely, but as he's about to give her the bag, it tips sideways and a whole bunch of them spill onto the dewy grass. He stares on in shock and looks up at her, mortified. Her eyes widen as she sees tears start to well up in his eyes and for a moment they're both entirely paralyzed, frozen in this tragic turn of events, before the taller boy bursts into tears. He wails and covers his eyes with his free hand as he squeezes his eyes shut, trying to stop the flow of his tears, but it's too late now. He's made an irredeemable mistake.

"It’s okay, I still eat them," The girl blurts out as she sits on the grass and starts picking up fruit gummies and eating them right off the ground.

The boy sniffles and wipes his eyes with his hand as he looks down at her curiously, but now instead of crying, he starts laughing and sits on the grass beside her.

"You're not supposed to eat anything off the ground," he giggles.

“Five minuht rewl,” she mumbles with several gummies in her mouth and a bunch more in her hand as she collects more with her other.

"It's five seconds and my mom says it's actually a myth."

She simply shrugs as she keeps eating them. 

He giggles. "Oh! I'm Nines by the way. Well, actually my real name is Nathan Maurice McCarley," he sighs and rolls his eyes as he's saying his name, "but I didn't pick that so it's not my fault and it sounds stupid, so now everyone calls me Nines!" He beams at her. “You’re the new girl right? I’ve never heard you talk before, I thought you were mute or something. And you talk kind of weird, are you not American? Where are you from? Oh, also what’s your name?”

She shakes her head and waits until she’s done chewing to reply. “Guatemala. My name is Beatriz María Soledad Dolores Rosales Espinosa de la Cruz,” she casually mutters in one breath before shoving another handful of gummies in her mouth. 

He stares at her with an open mouth. “Bee...bee a trees- wha?”

She frowns at him and swallows her mouthful. “Beatriz María Soledad Dolores Rosales Espinosa de la Cruz,” she says slower.

His eyes are wide with bewilderment. “That’s too long.”

“Not it’s not.”

“It is too.”

“No it’s not.”

“It’s too.”

“It’s not!”

“It’s too!”

“It’s not!”

“It’s too!”

“IT’S NOT!”

“IT’S TOO!”

“YOU LOOK LIKE A SICK HAMSTER!”

“YOU ONLY SAY THAT CUZ YOU’RE SUPER PRETTY!” 

This time it’s her turn to stare at him wide eyed as a few gummies fall out of her open mouth, but she quickly averts her gaze and her cheeks turn pink. 

He stops scowling at her when his words finally sink in and he starts blushing too. 

They sit in awkward silence for a moment as she finishes the last gummies and licks her hand clean. Then she just stares down at the ground.

“Mm...you don’t look like a sick hamster.”

“Thanks...your name is really long though.”

She lifts her gaze and frowns at him. 

“Can I just call you Bee?”

“Ah?” She lifts an eyebrow. 

“Bee! Instead of Bee-a-tree Maria something something something,” he explains.

She scrunches up her nose and shrugs.

“You don’t like it?”

She purses her lips in thought. “Mmm...like Bees?”

“Yeah, like honeybees! They’re pretty, right?”

She nods and smiles softly.

"So you like it?" 

"Mm...yeah," she nods.

“Yayy!” he beams at her. "Bee and Nines. We'll be a team from now on!" He stretches out his palm up in the air.

She grins up at his hand and high-fives him. “Best friends?” She asks.

“Yeah! Best friends forever!” He smiles widely.

She fully smiles back for the first time and jumps to her feet. She extends her hand out to him and he takes it. After helping him up, she runs to pick up his sketchbook a few feet away and comes running back and hands it to him wordlessly. 

“Oh...thanks,” he mumbles, looking down at the torn, muddy sketchbook. He flips through the pages and pouts as tears well up in his eyes. All his super cool drawings are ruined now. He sniffles as thick teardrops roll down his cheek.

“I have other notebook if you want it. My mom buyed it for me. But it's pink and has a unicorn, I don’t like it."

He wipes his runny nose with his sleeve and blinks at her. "I like unicorns," he mumbles.

She smiles softly. "then i give it to you when we go back to the classroom.”

“You don’t need it?”

She shakes her head.

He smiles softly. "Thanks then," he mumbles as he shoves his small, tattered sketchbook into his lunchbox.

"Mhm," she says with a small smile.

He shuffles around for a bit, biting his lip as he struggles to find words. "So um...do you like...do you wanna see my secret place?" he finally says as he gathers the courage to look up at her again. 

"Secret place?"

"Yeah! It's a really cool tree house, I'll show you!" he grabs her hand and breaks into a run, dragging her along with him. They run across the playground, past the monkey bars and swings, until they reach a small tree with some wooden stairs leading up to a small, old, castle-shaped tree house with the yellow paint peeling off. 

"At the start of the year everyone loved this tree house," he mutters quietly, "but then a rumor started going around about it being haunted, so now no one wants to come here because they say that it's full of ghosts," he explains as he leads her up the stairs. "But I'm not scared because I also feel like a ghost. So if the stories are real, I'll just become friends with them and send them to scare all the mean kids," he smirks. "You're not scared though, are you?" he squeezes her hand softly and looks down at her as they reach the last step.

She frowns and shakes her head. "I fight them."

"No! I'm sure they're friendly," he pouts. "No need to fight, they can be our friends too."

She blinks. "Okay."

"Yeah!" he beams at her. "Okay then, come in," he steps into the small house, pulling her along. "Welcome to my secret place!"

Her eyes dart all around the tiny space as she steps up to the center of the room. It's not much of a sight, but it's warm and cozy despite the faint, musty, earthy smell. She glances at the wide window opening on the left side as she steps closer to it and looks out at the view of the entire playground.

“Pretty,” she mutters.

He grins as he walks up to stand next to her. “I know right? It’s like we’re the rulers of aaall this playground. This is our kingdom!” he smiles smugly. 

She opens her mouth wide and sticks out her tongue, tasting the cool breeze blowing their way. “It’s so cool,” she says with a small grin. 

“Yeaaah,” he sighs dreamily, looking out into the vast lands before them. “Hey, what are you gonna be when you grow up?” he asks, resting his elbows on the window’s edge and propping up his face on his palms. 

“A ninja superspy doctor chef and sword master,” she replies in a serious tone.

His eyes widen as he turns to look at her. “Whoaaa, that’s so cool!”

She grins at him. “And you?”

“I’m gonna be a scientist and a prince,” he smirks. “And my castle is gonna be on top of a super tall mountain, and it’s gonna have a giant library, and lots of playrooms, and a whole ball pit room, and trampolines and looong slides all over the place, and secret passages and a dungeon where I can throw all the bullies of the world in,” he laughs, “and a biiiig lab where I can do all my super cool experiments, and oh! And a giant pool in the shape of a stegosaurus with water slides and fountains,” he smiles. “And the forest around the castle is gonna be full of the coolest creatures.”

She watches him as he rambles on about his castle and grins. “Can I go too?” she asks with a gleam in her eyes.

“Of course! I can…” he smiles shyly as he looks away, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. “I could even make you a princess if you want.” 

She grimaces, scrunching up her nose. “Naaah.”

His smile fades away. “Aww...okay,” he pouts slightly. “Well, you can still live in the castle if you want.”

“Can I be armor lady with sword?” 

He quirks an eyebrow at her. “You mean a knight?”

“That, yes!”

“Yeees! You can be my knight. The most important knight in the castle. And you can even have all the candies you want,” he smiles.

“More fruit gummies?” Her eyes widen.

“All the fruit gummies, we’ll have so many we’ll have to get a whole room just for candies.”

She smiles widely. “Cooool.”

“Yes!” he smiles and extends his pinky. “Deal?”

She locks her pinky with his without hesitation. “Deal.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> btw just in case anyone would be interested, I recently started doing song covers and original songs on youtube, so please if you can, check out my [channel](https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCH0lcYeiUqlRHzTjwu2P4hA?view_as=subscriber) if you wanna :)
> 
> i hope you liked the chapter!


	5. Slow Dance

“What are you thinking of?” A quiet, mellow voice mutters beside him. 

9S jumps a little.

801S giggles softly. “Sorry to startle you.”

He shakes his head. “It’s fine, I was just looking out here for a sec…” he turns around to face him and leans his back on the railing of the balcony. 

“Nice view huh?” 801S comments, looking at the glowing city ahead.

9S glances down at 801S’ outfit and smiles timidly, his cheeks growing warm at the sight of his light blue crop top sweatshirt revealing his midriff, and his black skinny jeans hugging the perfect shape of his hips and slender legs. “I like this one.”

“Yeah?” He smiles with a mischievous gleam in his eyes.

“Yeah,” 9S nods and yawns. “Can we do something else now though? I’m getting a little bored. How about we play something?”

801S pouts softly. “One last one. We didn’t go shopping just to come back and throw all these clothes in the closet.”

9S rolls his eyes.

“Pleaaase? I promise it’s the last one,” 801S bats his eyelashes and gives him a pleading look.

9S looks back at him for a moment and lets out a long sigh. “Alright fiiine.”

“Thank you,” 801S smirks at him and walks back into the room to change into yet another outfit.

9S turns back around and looks out at the vibrant city life. He falls into an empty trance as he stares at all the neon lights flashing and zooming by all around, making the entire city glow with a blinding sort of brightness. He idly recalls the smell of dewy grass and the feeling of sunlight on his skin.

“Okay, close your eyes,” 801S calls from behind him. “And turn around.”

“Alriiight,” he replies and does as he says as he takes a few steps forward into the room. 

He hears a soft giggle. “Okay, promise you won’t make fun of me.”

“Why would I make fun of you?”

“Just promise!”

9S sighs. “Fine, I promise.” 

He hears him take a slow, deep breath. “Okay. Open your eyes.”

9S opens his eyes and gasps softly as he takes in the sight of him. A short, black dress hugs his lithe figure, accentuating his thin waist, and ending in a flowy skirt. His collarbone is left exposed by the shoulderless long sleeves, and his eyes can’t help but linger a little longer than they should. A single passing thought mixes in with his endearing admiration for a moment: _ black dresses were her favorite. _His black box hums a little louder in his chest as his pulse begins to race. His face grows warm. 

As his eyes slowly trace his shape and travel further down, 9S can’t help but crack a smile at the black thigh-high socks with kitten faces at the top.

“So...what do you think?” 801S mumbles in a small voice as he looks off to the side, avoiding eye contact while playing with the hem of the skirt. 

“I…” 9S looks up at his face, smiling softly. “You’re beautiful,” he blurts out before he can process the words.

801S looks up and meets his eyes with a child-like hope in his expression. 

9S goes beet red. “Uh, w-what I _ mean _ is um, y-you uh, th-the dress, it’s uh, i-it looks, it really suits-“

“Thank you,” he mutters with a shy smile as his eyes brighten up and his cheeks turn a soft shade of pink.

"Y-yeah…" 9S mutters, looking away. "S-so uh, what do you wanna do now? We could uh, I don't know, we could...we could um-"

801S giggles quietly.

"What?" He frowns slightly.

He slowly shakes his head with a sly smile. "Nothing." 

_ "What?" _9S frowns deeper.

"Nothing. Come here," he says, still wearing that little smug smile on his face.

9S rolls his eyes and takes a few steps closer, sliding the glass door closed behind him. 

Now there he is, slowly twirling around on his tiptoes, the dress skirts spinning in the air around with him. 9S can't help but be a little mesmerized. He smiles softly.

"What are you doing?" he mutters.

"I love this song," he says quietly without stopping as he hums along the melody. 

9S focuses on the sweet, mellow tune playing from 801S' pod speakers from its perch on the shelf.

"It's nice," he hums.

801S stops mid-spin and looks at him smiling. "Dance with me."

9S snickers. "I can't dance. I'm not equipped with-"

"Everyone can dance, silly. How good you are doesn't matter."

9S stares into his gleaming, aqua-green eyes for a moment and grins softly, shaking his head. "Alright," he steps up to him and bows mockingly. 

801S giggles and curtsies in response.

9S smiles "Okay so, how do we do this?" 

801S takes his hand and lifts his arm up in the air as he twirls around and faces him again, flashing a bright smile. “Just feel the music.”

“Alright,” 9S grins and awkwardly tries swaying side to side in place.

801S snickers and intertwines their hands together, pulling him closer and placing his other hand on 9S’ shoulder. “Put your other hand on my back,” he instructs.

"Uh…" 9S hesitantly follows his instruction, placing his hand on his mid back. “Like that?”

“Yeap,” he grins, “now we dance,” he whispers.

9S grins back. “Okay.”

Just as the harmonies start to grow, they start swaying along to the music. They move out of tempo and out of sync, quietly giggling at their lousy performance but carrying on anyway. They slowly let the melody of the song guide them into a more natural flow as the mellifluous voice of the singer eases their stiffness. 9S grows bolder and twirls his dance partner around, admiring his shape and the flow of his skirts as he spins, then brings him back into his arms and sways with him, their bodies moving in sync with the melody. 801S’ eyes sparkle with glee as he looks into his dance partner’s eyes mesmerized, a rosy hue coloring his cheeks. 9S cracks a tiny smile as he sways with him around the room. Song after song, they keep dancing in this trance-like state of pure bliss, smiling and giggling at their awkward steps, never taking their eyes off of each other.

When a slower song comes on, 801S slowly wraps his arm closer around 9S’ shoulder. He squeezes his hand softly and smiles. 9S’ mouth falls slightly agape as his pulse starts racing again. 

“How do you feel?” 801S mutters.

“I-uh...yeah,” he mumbles, not really processing his question.

801S giggles softly. “Yeah?”

“What?” 9S raises his brow.

He shakes his head in amusement. “Nothing, let’s just dance,” he mutters as he slowly sways with him.

9S simply nods and cracks a goofy smile. 801S snickers and raises his arm as he twirls, then intertwines their hands back together and comes back around to wrap his arm around his shoulder again. 9S wraps his arm around his waist again and slowly pulls him closer. He feels another spike in his pulse as he realizes just how close they are now. They sway side to side slowly, feeling entranced by the music and perhaps something more. Their eyes are locked on each other. Their bodies mimic the other’s movements. Warmth emanates from their cores. 

As the song is about to end, 801S hesitantly leans in closer and raises himself on his tiptoes. He searches 9S’ eyes for a sign, but 9S doesn’t seem to catch on, so he slowly leans in just a bit closer. 

9S’ black box grows hot and his pulse drums in his ears as he watches him get closer and closer. He doesn’t know how to react. On one hand, he wants badly to give in and close the gap, but on the other, his mind can’t stop associating close proximity with threat, and all the alarms are wildly ringing in his head. His thoughts and needs battle against each other -wishes against fears- as he watches him lean in closer, his lips mere inches away from his own. He can feel his warm breath on his synthetic skin, pleading for him. His hands tremble slightly. His breathing becomes shallow. Fear starts to cloud his mind, overshadowing any of his pleasant feelings. As his upper lip brushes against his, he finally reacts and abruptly pushes him away. 

801S stumbles back a bit before recovering his balance. He looks up at him wide eyed with a shocked and hurt expression. His eyes become glassy as a single tear escapes the corner of his eye.

9S’ eyes widen, finally processing what he’s just done. “Eddy, I’m sorry,” he blurts out and tries to reach for him, but he backs away. 

“It’s fine, I get it,” he says curtly, looking away. 

“No, no, it’s not like that. Eddy, listen to me,” 9S tries to reach for him again, but 801S pushes his hand away. 

“I said it’s fine,” his voice cracks.

9S bites his lip. “No, it’s not,” he whispers. “Eddy...I _ want _ to...but I _ can’t _. I mean, I was-” he bites his lip again and squeezes his eyes shut, trying to prevent the tears from flowing. It takes him a moment to speak again. “I know you wouldn’t hurt me, I know I can trust you, but I...for so long I was-” he can’t hold it in any longer, so he lets the tears flow. He breaks down sobbing and covers his face with his palm. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…”

801S gasps. “Hey, it’s okay, it’s okay,” he whispers, “sshh, it’s okay Nines,” he bites his lip and hesitantly reaches for him but stops himself. “Is...is it okay if I place my hand on your shoulder?”

9S nods slowly. 

“Okay,” he mutters as he lightly squeezes his shoulder. “It’s okay, Nines, I’m sorry.”

9S shakes his head. “You didn’t do anything. I’m sorry I pushed you.”

“Shh it’s okay. I understand, don’t worry. I’m more worried about you right now.”

He shakes his head again. “I’m fine,” he mutters, his voice a bit muffled by his palm.

“_Nines, _” he sighs. “Come on, let’s go sit down. I’ll make you some tea.”

9S stands there quietly for a moment before he can reply. “Okay,” he whispers.

801S carefully guides him to sit on the edge of his bed and then walks to the kitchen to put the kettle on. He waits for it to heat up and then prepares the tea just the way 9S likes it and brings it to him. 

“Here,” he carefully hands him the mug. 

“Thanks,” he mumbles.

801S sits beside him, making sure to not sit too close to give him space. They sit in silence for a few minutes as 9S sips his tea before either of them speaks. 

“I’m sorry,” 9S mutters.

“Shh, I told you it’s okay,” 801S whispers soothingly. “I um...I’m guessing this is about what happened to you…”

9S nods slowly.

“I’m really sorry... I know it must’ve been awful,” he shakes his head, “I can only wish it hadn’t happened to you.”

9S bites his lower lip. He glances at his friend beside him and hesitantly reaches for his hand. He slowly places his hand on top of his on the bed and intertwines their hands together. 801S gives his hand a light squeeze, which he returns with a faint smile.

“Thank you,” 9S mutters. 

801S smiles sadly at him and gives his hand another light squeeze. “Is it okay if I ask...”

“Hm?”

“How...how did you end up like that? In that...situation?” 

9S stays silent for a moment. “I was kidnapped,” he mutters and bites his lip. “I still don’t know who did it, or why, or if I was targeted or just taken by chance, I don’t know anything. I just know that I was sold. And suddenly I wasn’t on Earth anymore. And suddenly I had no autonomy, and suddenly I was degraded to being used as an expensive toy for human pleasure, and-” his voice breaks as he chokes up mid sentence. He tries to swallow the lump in his throat. “I thought it would never end,” he whispers.

“I'm so sorry, Nines," 801S whispers, lightly stroking his hand with his thumb. "I'm so glad it's over. I can't even imagine how painful it must've been."

9S squeezes his hand. "I'm not really sure it's over...I mean, I'm out of there now, but what if they find me again? What if I get sent back? Or what if YoRHa Corp. finally locates me? What if I put you and Pascal in danger and something bad happens to you and because of me you-"

"Hey, hey, hey sshhh," 801S mutters softly and holds his hand in both of his. "You're going to be okay. You're safe now, and I'm going to do everything in my power to keep it that way. You have my word," he says as he looks him in the eyes solemnly. 

9S looks at him with furrowed brows as he bites his lower lip. “How are you so sure?”

“I…” 801S looks off to the side for a moment. “Can I trust you with a secret?”

“Of course...why?”

“I may or may not know how to find the ones who sold you. They were humans right?”

“Yeah, I think so...but how?”

801S takes a deep breath and exhales. “I work for an anti-humanity group called Genesis. We help replicants gain freedom and strive for our rights. Part of our duty is to find and take out bad guys like the ones who kidnapped you.”

9S stares at him with his mouth slightly agape.”For real?”

801S nods. “But you _ cannot _ tell anyone about this, _ especially _Pascal, okay?”

“Yeah, okay,” he nods. “H-how? How did you find them? How did you end up working for them?”

801S shakes his head. “It’s a long story, I’ll tell you later. But right now I’d rather focus on your case. I need to know everything you remember, every single detail from the day you got kidnapped.”

“Whoa wait, slow down...Are you sure about doing this? Is this safe?”

801S sighs. “It’s my job, Nines, I hunt down these fuckers for a living,” he smirks. “I’m an Echelon, I collect info and analyze data on targets. The actual dangerous part is up to the Scythes. They’re the ones who carry out the mission. They’re kind of like YoRHa Corp.s’ B units, but instead of retiring replicants…” He lifts a mischievous eyebrow. “Well, you get the idea.”

9S slowly slips his hand away from his grasp. “I’m not too sure about this…”

801S bites his lip. “I can help you, Nines. Then you won’t have to worry about them ever finding you again.”

“I don’t know Eddy…” his gaze drops to the floor.

“Think of all the other replicants they must’ve done this to. Think of how many we could save from that awful fate if we do this.”

9S lifts his gaze back up and looks deep into his aqua green eyes, which now beg him for his full trust. He stays silent for a moment, thinking about his offer. He pictures his friends with whom he escaped that wretched place and feels something inside him sink. He never got to really know them, but they were kind enough to include him in their escape plan. Neither of them had deserved being trapped in there, and neither does anyone else. Maybe 801S is right about all this.

“Alright,” he mutters.

“Yeah?” 801S lifts his eyebrow.

9S nods. “Yeah.”

801S smiles softly. “I won’t let you down, I promise.”

He nods again. “I believe you.”

“Good,” he grins. “Now...I’m gonna need your full trust here. I need a copy of your memory logs from everything you remember up to when you got sold and any other information that might be relevant. Are you up for it?”

“I…” His pulse quickens.

“It’s okay if you’re not, we don’t have to do this right away. But I _ will _need this info eventually in order to find them,” he explains.

9S breaks eye contact and bites his lip. “Sorry, it’s just…” he trails off.

801S puts his hand on his shoulder lightly. “It’s okay, you can trust me. Whenever you’re ready,” he says in a soft voice. 

9S clenches and unclenches his jaw a couple times, then takes a deep breath and exhales. “Okay,” he whispers. “Let’s do this.”

:Are you sure?”

He nods. “Better to get it over with than to wait and be a nervous wreck the whole time.”

801S grins softly. “Alright, if you say so.” 

9S sighs and moves back to lie down on the bed. “Okay. Go for it,” he says as he closes his eyes.

“Hold on a second,” 801S reaches for a white plush bunny on a shelf beside the bed. “Here, hold Benny, he’ll make you feel better.”

9S opens his eyes and looks at the bunny 801S is holding and takes it hesitantly. “Thanks,” he smiles softly. 

“No problem,” 801S smiles back. “Ready now?”

9S nods and closes his eyes again.

“Okay. Hacking in,” he says and gets to work right away.

With the help of 9S, he swiftly goes through his memory logs from the exact dates of the incident, from the day he got taken up until he arrived in Lujuria Co., on Cortynya, Mars. He quickly makes a copy of each one and saves them, only taking a swift glance at them before moving on, not wanting to risk putting 9S in any more distress than necessary. He would have more time to look at them in detail later anyway, but for now, this should do. He notices 9S’ pulse rate increasing, so he quickly finishes extracting the last memory and exits his cyberspace. 

9S opens his eyes and squeezes the bunny in his arms. 

801S looks down at him in concern. "You okay there?”

9S nods. “It was quicker than I thought.”

He smiles. “Well, you know me. I’m your top of the line Scanner. Your knight in shining armor,” he winks. 

9S lets out a quiet chuckle through his nose as he sits up. “Do you think that’ll be enough?”

He raises a questioning eyebrow at him as he sits beside him. “Do you doubt me still?”

9S shakes his head. “Of course not.”

801S smiles softly at him as he looks into his sincere sky-blue eyes. He slowly lowers his gaze at his lips for a moment and then back up at his eyes. He hesitantly raises his hand to his face and very lightly strokes his cheek with the back of his index finger. 9S closes his eyes for a brief moment with the faintest smile on his lips. 

“I promise you, Nines,” he whispers, “we’re gonna find them. And we’re gonna make them pay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i guess im really back with this fic. i really hope yall like it. also if anyones still reading it, id really appreciate it if you'd let me know


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